The homunculus has taken unfair advantage of my hospitality. It sat in the bath for many hours, and used up all the hot water, before toweling itself dry with my bath mat.
I am convinced the creature is in some way wicked - wheresoever it steps, an abundance of toadstools grow, even from formica and other surfaces which would not ordinarily support such fecundity.
It has now commandeered my kitchenette, and will not tolerate my approach. I have tried slipping lighted matches beneath the door, but this has only angered the beast.
If I do not act soon, I fear I will have no food left, for even now I hear the creature opening yet another tin of Alphabetti Spaghetti.
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